Primal
by Tenrou Nogitsune
Summary: Three dominant Races exist in the Koprulu Sector. They have no friendly ties. The Terrans, the Zerg and the Protoss; each has a differently belief. This story defies all pre-existing knowledge of interaction between these races. But what will happen when Brood Mother meets a surprisingly friendly dark templar and a slightly hostile terran Ghost? Rated M for mature/sexual themes.R
1. Prologue

_**Prologue** _

Upon creation, Terran, Protoss and the Zerg have surged forth from their feeble birth forms. The genesis of the Zerg and Protoss were the doing of the Xel'naga. Ancient star-walkers of a near infinite life. They were gods, scientists. They left the Koprulu Sector. Each race became successful. But they created them for a reason: to become the new Xel'naga.

The Terrans are a young species with psionic potential. The Terrans of the Koprulu Sector descend from the survivors of a disastrous 23rd century colonization mission from Earth. Compared to the protoss and zerg, the Terrans are highly factualized and endure frequent wars amongst themselves in addition to the more recent conflicts with their alien neighbors. Nevertheless, Terrans stand as one of the three dominant species of the galaxy. The humans born of Earth used simple bone spears and animal hides to survive harsh winters. They became fascinated with becoming better. Hundreds of years pass and they achieved the ability to traverse the stars, colonizing on new planets. An ephemeral race, but they work quickly.

The Protoss; the First Born. Able to survive on radiation alone, this race of psionically inclined people harnessed the Khala after the Aeon of Strife. They became unified as one. But not there were some who refuted the link. The Dark Templar. Proclaimed heretics and evil ones, the Council attempted to silence them for what they believed. Learning of such treasonous beliefs, the High Council sought to slay them. Adun, believing no one protoss should kill one another, hid them away, teaching them to conceal themselves. Later years after the Fall of Aiur, the Protoss rejoined the Dark Templar on the Twilit world of Shakuras. The main protoss cultural groups are the Khalai, who adhere to the communal Khala, and the Nerazim, who reject the Khala. In addition, another branch of the protoss separate from the Khala called the Tal'darim lives in various places in the galaxy.

Birthed on the jungle world of Zerus, the Zerg were created. The Zerg are a terrifying and ruthless amalgamation of biologically advanced, arthropodal aliens. Dedicated to the pursuit of genetic perfection, the Zerg relentlessly hunt down and assimilate advanced species across the galaxy, incorporating useful genetic code into their own. The Xel'naga gifted the Zerg with purity of essence and by thus, making them the counterparts of the Protoss. However, before they departed into the stars, a Fallen One corrupted the Zerg, programming a genetic drive to wipe out the Protoss. Amon would create the Hybrid to control the Zerg and destroy the sector. The Overmind knew of Amon's plans and sought a way to free the Zerg. When Sarah Kerrigan was abandoned by Mengsk, the Overmind transformed her into its Vessel of freedom.

The Queen of Blades is gone. On the hellish planet Char, Jim Raynor harnessed the power of an ancient Xel'Naga artifact in a desperate bid to stop the Zerg Swarm from overrunning the Koprulu sector, and the relic restored Sarah Kerrigan to her human form. Without their queen to guide and unify them, the Swarm has fractured into several broods scattered throughout the Koprulu sector. One of the greatest threats to the galaxy has been neutralized...or so it seems.


	2. Chapter I

**Renasza**: **I would like to thank those who have encouraged me to continue writing this fic. I'll warn my readers now that it will involve politics, racism, and probably quite a bit of sexual stuff. Enjoy this crazy story.**

_**Chapter I**_

The death of a Protoss female had been her birth. Within mere hours of being born, Niadra had neutralized a Protoss shuttle fleeing the frozen planet of Kaldir. Every single one of the Protoss had been slain. With her growing psionics, the Brood Mother had managed to crash the ship into Aiur. The coordinates had originally navigated to Shakuras. Niadra was wise enough to realize that her brood did not require near enough firepower to take on the new Protoss home-world. Here, she would create a new base near the offline warp-gate. There were many mineral nodes and even more vespene geysers. Quite a suitable location for birthing a brood. And the feral Zerg could easily be controlled.

Unbeknownst to the queen, a scouting party had landed days earlier on Aiur. The Terrans had constructed a small base, nothing to attract attention to themselves. Just a 100 square meter perimeter. No more than 100 people tops. The terran Dominion expedition arrived in attempt to greater understand the Protoss and discover ways to destroy them.

Nerazim that returned to the shattered home-world, looking for clues to the future. Most of them, seekers of the archaic wisdom left behind by the Xel'Naga. Of course, their bases were flanked by the proud warriors of their kin. Now, the story of three very unlikely individual's shall unfold...

"Do not fret Adraha," Renasza said mentally as she strode out past a photon cannon; a siege structure that focused psionics to destroy invading forces. The young dark templar shared a warm glow of confidence toward her elder. Arrogance was not to be found in her mouthless smile. The older Protoss known now as Adraha fingered her severed nerve endings; being born a dark templar, it was ritual to sever the cords that linked them to the Khala. It was customary to tie them back, like a human female would with hair."I will be careful wise one. I will return unharmed. The roaming Zerg should not be a problem for me."

Her thoughts remained private for many a minute before she replied, "I would grieve if you fell victim to the abominations that are the Zerg. The ferals are nearly as unpredictable and thrice as vicious as the Swarm. If you do not take your ship, I would advise to bring a Sentry with you. Even better, another templar." The expressionless face revealed no emotion, but the feeling inside were of concern, much felt by the young Protoss female.

Renasza waved her off, "I will warp in a Sentry or a guard if I need to, but you know how the High Council feels about us Nerazim. Though they live on Shakuras now, I can still feel tension. Those old timers may still resent our rejection of the Khala. It...unsettles me still."

"Have faith in our leader. Mohandar is a wise one, rivaling even Dark Prelate Zeratul's wisdom," Adraha spoke softly and carefully. "He will certainly work things out with the High Council. The racism will stop in the near future." The elder Nerazim would have smiled if she could. "Stay out of combat and stick to the shadows. Return to us swiftly. May the stars guide you."

"I have no intention of engaging anyone in combat. If I am not back by first light two days from now, send a search party if I do not send a cry for help. I feel your concern, but I must go. Adun Toridas." With that, the young Dark Templar vanished from sight and sauntered off into the night. She had to investigate the seismic disturbances to the south.

#########

From his post on an overhanging cliff, a man shy of 40 stood as still as a hawk before it swoops in for its' prey. He wore a Nyx-class stealth suit. The slim fitting nano-tech clung tightly to his skin. A 'Dominion' insignia was stitched to his left shoulder to show his allegiance. Over his eyes were night-vision and thermal binoculars. Rather useful for keeping watch.

It was said that all Ghosts were eccentrics and none were exempted from the unique traits they developed. Some of the symptoms included self-muttering, the hobby of collection odd trinkets or becoming anti-social. But oft it wasn't their choice; they became outcasts because people feared their psionic abilities. To the public, the Ghost Program was but a myth. But to those whom were in the same squadron or platoon with such individual feared them. They despised the mind-reading powers that came with being a Ghost. One unlucky Ghost suffered from minor headaches, collected ancient Protoss relics and was essentially the epitome of anti-social. Elliot Jackson had once been a criminal within the Umojan Protectorate. But after years of isolation in New Folsom, the Dominion finally neurally re-socialized him. They 'scrubbed' his brain clean of the criminal acts he'd committed. But because of his psionic prowess (a psionic index of 8), he'd read the minds of some of the soldiers who were in his platoon guarding the archeologists. In the com-center, he'd dug up some old information on himself and read all of the unguarded files regarding his crimes. Upon the discovery of his corrupted past, he sequestered himself even more than he did before learning of the tens of people he'd slaughtered in cold blood.

But what he didn't know, was when Arcturus Mengsk had been Emperor of the Dominion, he had been one of the many subjects of an unethical experiment. Elliot Jackson was one of fifty Ghosts subjected to DNA grafts. Several Protoss warriors had been kidnapped and harvested for their organs and DNA. The prime goal was increase the psionic capabilities beyond human possibility. However, Elliot was considered a failure after his heart transplant as well as a scrotal transplant. His PI remained at a mere eight point three. But because he survived each of the surgeries without a single malignant side-effect, he continued performing his duty as a Ghost. Of course, he was chemically induced into a coma during the entire length of the experiment. Tonight, Elliot was watching the only entrance to the base with icy eyes. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

#########

Deep within the Hive, Niadra waited patiently for the scouts to return. A few days earlier, the Brood Mother had sent a small platoon of troops to investigate a disturbance she had felt. In fact, there were two unfamiliar parties besides the feral Zerg. For the first time in a while, she felt alone, even fearful. The Brood Mother hadn't been in contact with Abathur or Kerrigan for several moons. No orders had arrived for quite a long time. It made her lost. If only she could be reconnected to her Queen.

**What'd Ya think?**


	3. Chapter II

Renasza: I have updated Primal again. But I have edited and added new things and changed some on the prologue and Chapter one. I'd suggets you go back and reread as there may be some information you'll need to understand this chapter and future chapters. I would also appreciate suggestions and ideas in accordance to advancing the story. While I have a direction in mind, it wouldn't hurt if you threw some ideas my way. Also, reviews are like crack to me...or caffiene which I'm already addicted to (mmm, caffiene). Anyways, enjoy the chapter...

Chapter II

For the third time that night, Elliot had been thinking of that woman again. The deadliest woman enlisted into the Dominion Military; with a Psi index of 10 and her weapon of choice: a standard C-10 canister rifle, Nova Terra was the cold-blooded assassin that made his blood boil. The Ghost with sun-kissed hair always pique his interests. She acted so cold, but she was an exceptional assassin. He knew so little about her, yet he yearned to be closer to her.

Before his mind wandered too far, before he became distracted, something caught his peripherals. No, he wasn't even looking at the missile turret's feed. He saw a subdued glimmer with his plain eyes (even if they were optically enhanced). It seemed as if light itself was being bent. Leaves rustled where wind didn't exist. It had been still humid most of the day. Flipping down his thermal view, Elliot scanned the northern perimeter. After a few minutes of looking, he saw a humanoid heat signature from no less than a hundred meters.

Renasza frankly should have been more careful; as involved as she was in tracking, her templar training should have been more than enough to remember to keep her heat signature to a nadir, a minimum. Were she truly shrouded in shadows, she would have at least been able to hide her heat signature to anything less than a Detector.

As it were, her fingertips brushed the jungle floor, her eyes intent upon the path her prey had vanished. Her skin picked up upon any scent that stuck to the leaves and bark around her. Were this the rainy season, the scent would have washed off by now—she was in luck.

The Terran was very good at hiding his thoughts; he had to, as a Ghost. They were trained to do so. However, Renasza caught a bare glimpse of surface thought, a brush of something not her own and certainly not another protoss'. Terran?

It was caustic and quite humiliating, or would have been if another had been with her. Caught by a mere human. However, if she could turn the situation around…

It was nerve-wracking, and for a painful moment, she hesitated. Should she run and report? Catch and subdue? Renasza was more than capable of taking down a terran, but she was unsure as to this particular terran's mental prowess. Still… dying to a terran Ghost was not an entirely dishonorable way to croak. It would be preferable to being taken prisoner.

A better cloak sufficed. Her body was swiftly covered in the true darkness of the Void, obscuring Elliot's heat sensor, and the protoss went entirely out of sight.

The middle aged man smirked to himself, activating his suit's cloaking device. His toned form vanished from sight. It was quite an advanced piece of technology; the Nyx-class. It no longer sapped his energy when he cloaked; he could cloak for an indefinite time as long as the tech wasn't EMP'd or if the skin-tight suit became too badly damaged.

Assembling his C-10 canister rifle in eight point three seconds, Elliot leaped down the rampart where he'd been patrolling. His thermal vision showed sleeping personnel and harmless wildlife. But not his target. He crept soundlessly through the grassy terrain, mindful of leaves or twigs that would alert the humanoid from his location. Flicking his head to the left, and then to his right. Fifty-two degrees, he saw a heat signature far too cold for any humanoid. Protoss, he thought. Turning off the safety with a push of a button, the male Ghost picked up his pace. The figure had stopped for a moment. Taking advantage of his enemy's pause, Elliot sauntered behind the Protoss. Pressing the rifle to the alien's head, he growled in his thick Russian accent, "Surrender."

Renasza was amused. She'd positioned herself carefully and waited for his approach, dropping her cloak ever so slightly for him to get a fix on her again. Did the human truly think he could simply walk up to a protoss and capture them, just like that? Had he ever even met a protoss in battle? A Nerazim, especially?

She held her position, waiting for him to make his move, and as soon as muzzle touched flesh, Renasza moved, far too agile for even an augmented human to react to, battering the rifle to the side and ripping it out of his clutches with a strength no human could rival. Her blazing eyes were glacial as she lashed out with a foot, the taloned appendage slamming full-force into his knee-cap, clawed fingers wrapping about his throat and simultaneously slamming him to the jungle floor.

A psi-blade activated, the burning, glowing edge of which was positioned directly above the human's eye, where the temple was. There, Renasza paused, using her greater weight to keep him down and waiting for him to respond.

Elliot gasped, the air being forced out of his lungs. His eyes widened as he realized she had been waiting for him; an ambush! His knee burned as it was forced down. His momentary asphyxiation relinquished a rasping cough from his throat, gasping for air until he was thrown to the ground. His rifle had gone off the moment it hit the ground, causing a barrage of vegetation to shower the two of them. He'd underestimated the alien and its reaction time. It had been in his training regimen to withstand pain and breath-chasing blows, but this was different. He'd never felt such force in a quick attack. It'd felt like a building had fallen atop of him.

Elliot grunted at the Protoss poised above him, ready to kill. The Ghost felt the psionic energy focused into a blade pointed at his brow. He prepared his mental barriers and enforcing them. He would not give a shred of intel to the enemy, verbally or not. He would die before any information was lost.

The pendant, a Protoss relic he'd acquired through the black market thrummed against his upper torso, glowing through his suit. He speculated if it was common when in close proximity to a Protoss to glow and vibrate. In a final attack, he shrieked psionically, "KILL ME!"

Renasza tilted her head to the side, frowning down at the human with her eyes. A psionic signature hummed in the back of her mind, and she peered closely at the captured creature. That signature… was familiar—she twitched suddenly in anger. It was a protoss relic! A gift from the Wanderers from Afar! How DARE he! How DARE such an insignificant whelp wear it!

Her grip fastened on him, heedless of the human's health, her warp blade drifting closer, when a thought spanned into her mind. How did the human carry it without at least going mad? Now that was… riveting…

That was when his psionic attack ripped into her mind, and she reeled, jerking her head back; eyes widening and her warp-blade dissipating. Pain thundered through her head and she almost obeyed his roared command, claws hooking into the flesh of his face before—

—She stopped just in time, clearing her mind. That had been damned close.

"No." Renasza's voice was a dry whisper as she sealed her own barriers, firming her resolve. "I am afraid that is out of the question." She removed her hands from his face before roughly going over his body, searching him for hidden weapons.

"Just kill me," he growled through gritted teeth. His face stung, the claws had pierced the skin and raked down his cheek. Blood had begun to well from the wound. The thick scent of iron was strong in his nose. His supposed final attack had been to provoke the female warrior. But it had drained him almost entirely. He could no longer keep his stealth on; he mentally deactivated it. Female? He realized once he heard the alien's 'voice' that it was indeed a she. "I won't give you any information." Elliot's words dripped venomously.

He wondered. Why had the female Protoss stopped herself from killing him? Had his attack not been provocative enough? His thermal vision made it hard to get a good look at his assailant. He tried looking into her mind, but her defenses were far too strong. Were Protoss really that advanced?

A Nerazim would never show it, but she was daunted by the strength behind his mental assault. The persuasion abilities were extremely powerful, effectual enough to make her WANT to acquiesce to his command, even if for only a split second. Perhaps... the artifact was empowering him, somehow? But HOW?

"That remains to be seen," she replied. She tossed aside his knife, his spare knife, his extra spare knife, his three hidden pistols, his poison barbs, so on and so forth. The list went on as she slowly and methodically stripped him of all weapons. She was almost impressed with the terran ingenuity to be able to hide so many weapons.

Carefully, Renasza grasped his wrists. "I will flip you over now, and bind your hands. Do not fight me." That, of course, was out of the question for a warrior, even a terran one, but it had to be said.

The Ghost grunted as the Renasza pulled his hands together, each one balling into a fist. Not having expected humans on Aiur, the Nerazim didn't have access to binding materials. Being innovative, the dark templar bound his wrists using a thin vine. She looked at the claw marks she'd left upon his soft skin. Terrans were frustratingly delicate.

Her resolve now stable, Renasza reformed her warp-blade. The male human's fear spiked as it neared his face. Using her other arm to hold him firmly against the tree, the dark templar barely touched the flat of the psionic blade to his cheek, cauterizing the wound she'd inflicted in her reaction. Elliot sighed in relief the moment the warp-blade dissipated. It seemed she was only stopping the bleeding. It had seared like napalm, but he could hardly feel his cheek anymore. The nerves in his body no longer seemed to register pain at all. His chest was still heaving, trying to catch his breath,"What do you want with me?"

Communicating via telepathy (the way her entire race did), the alien female spoke directly into his mind, "I came to investigate a series of seismic activity south of the Expedition camp. I hadn't expected to find terrans on our home-world. But I found something more interesting on you, Elliot Jackson."

"Seems you peered into my mind earlier, Protoss," Elliot replied brusquely. The man had never been one gentle with words. He rolled his eyes, "Terrans find it incredibly rude and invasive to have aliens read their minds."

The Nerazim said, ignoring his callous comment, "I am a dark templar of the the Lenassa tribe. I am Renasza." In a softer voice, she said, "What both interests and infuriates me, is what is a terran doing with a Protoss relic? They belong to my people! How does one like you come across such a powerful artifact? What makes me curious, is how do you carry it without going mad?"

"I will not tell you what we terrans are here for," he repeated. Elliot said, "But, I will reveal how I obtained this charm. These...relics as you speak of them, they...call to me. Little whispers in my mind. They are auctioned on the black-market on various planets or oft found on barren worlds." He chuckled. "Ah, but who is to say I'm not already mad? Or do people just call it eccentricity nowadays?" He muttered to himself for a moment, then pushed up his visor using his bound hands to get a look at her. Her cloak seemed to have dissolved as well.

Renasza was far taller than any terran he'd seen or met. She looked around a good six to seven feet tall. Her body was covered in bluish-gray scales. She had a lithe, sinewy build, yet her body held soft curves. From an accentuated pelvis, her legs drew back into a digitigrade feet. The Protoss form seemed to only have two fingers and two thumbs on each hand. Her faceless mouth estranged him. How did they eat; did they eat at all? So many questions ran through Elliot's mind. She didn't seem to wear much, nothing more than some sort of woven wrappings. What intrigued him the most, was the lack of breasts. He hadn't realized the dark templar was female until she had spoken into his mind.

"It disgusts me that terrans simply trade our sacred relics for mere money!" She thought for a while, still not lowering her mental defenses in-case the terran tried another psionic assault.

Watching him closely, she spun him around roughly and guided him around the pile of weapons she'd left, making doubly sure he did not scoop one up somehow. It would be a long walk back to base, but she had to make sure he would not remember the way.

Through the enormous trees and ropey vines they walked. "Small talk" was an alien concept to the protoss, so Renasza was silent on the way, refusing to speak if he did. Her sharp eyes watched the forest around them, following the flickering shadows and freezing if an unknown sound reached them.

For near an hour they trekked, and though Elliot's slower pace would have been a nuisance to most longer-limbed creatures, Renasza did not mention it nor did she seem to care.

"We are nearly there," she spoke abruptly, interrupting whatever thoughts he had in mind. "Pray you do not make a fool of yourself, terran. My superiors will decide whether you live or die."

Elliot pondered aloud, "When we reach the base, wouldn't the photon cannons shoot me down the moment I got in range?" He hummed and then asked, "I think I was already enough of a fool to think I could take on a Protoss warrior."

As the pair continued walking, the terran tripped, stumbled and fell over roots and logs. It seemed to take forever, walking through the humid jungle. His legs carried him languidly, but on he went.

Renasza jerked him up roughly, hands clamping hard on his shoulders and making sure it was no trick for him to escape. She ignored what he said; he seemed to be talking just to talk, and she was not going to tell him exactly how photon cannons worked.

She plunged forward again, doubling their pace to make him shut up. Humans needed to breathe in order to talk, so hopefully it would make him run out of breath.

She doubted it, however. Terrans were a tenacious bunch, and the Ghosts were the cream of the crop, so to speak.

"Huh, they're not attacking me," he mused as the female warrior pushed him faster, entering the Protoss Expedition camp. It wasn't hard to stride as fast as Renasza desired. Everyone in the Dominion military was pushed to be in the prime of their life. Each morning, they were to run three miles to stay in shape.

Everywhere he looked, he saw buildings constructed of the same flawless metal. Every building seemed to be of a single piece of metal. Around the perimeter at about a ten foot interval were photon cannons, or what he assumed. But one building towered above the rest. A pyramidal building with a massive crystal glared down at him menacingly And it was the place the alien woman was pushing him towards.

Renasza sighed privately to herself, and continued on. She would be stopped to explain herself soon, and her eyes sought to find her superior amidst the flickering of movement that were her comrades. Determinedly she pushed Elliot onwards, past the cannons, through the other warriors gathered to gaze curiously and with barely concealed hostility upon him.

_Their enmity is poorly hidden_, Elliot thought to himself, feeling their harsh glares as he kept walking. The protoss practically broadcast their thoughts. Though he heard no words, a scorning presence buzzed around. He kept his posture straight despite how much pain he was in. Even as a prisoner, he would still proudly walk as a human, head high.

Elliot had noticed something between the various Protoss he encountered; the cord-like appendages varied into two groups. There had been the long dread-like style, adorned with bands of metal and crystals. The other, seemed to have severed the cords, tying them back like a ponytail. A new question arose in his mind.

Her superior did not meet her. That meant he was inside, so she marched her captured terran right on into the Nexus.

"Whoa~" Elliot gaped, stretching the word for several seconds.

**_Renasza_**: I really hope you enjoyed that last chapter. I hope this one will be just as entertaining if not more so. Don't forget reviews will encourage me to spit out more chapters


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